


Pretty Kitty

by TrashPile11



Category: Midnight Special (2016)
Genre: Bondage, Cat/Human Hybrids, Cock Warming, Doctor Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Edging, Explicit Consent, F/M, Hybrid AU, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, No Pregnancy, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Recording, Spanking, Tail Kink, Tail Sex, Video Recording, jesus I really just tagged tail kink, tail kink is just a metaphor for anal at this point tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashPile11/pseuds/TrashPile11
Summary: "And those hands, the ones he’d held up to show he wasn’t a threat, were massive. He’d been showing you his weapons all along, and you’d thought it a show of peaceful intent."Paul Sevier comes across you, the first hybrid he’s ever seen or heard of. A true scientist at heart, how could he not want to study you?Some notes about the world here:-reader is afab-reader is a human/feline hybrid, perhaps the first one-Paul has his PhD and likes being called Doctor LET ME HAVE THIS OK.
Relationships: Paul Sevier/Reader, Paul Sevier/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	1. So Much I Want to Do to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Ok this is the most important reminder To Read The Tags that I’ve given because “don’t like don’t read” is a mantra we should all live by.
> 
> [*Cue Flaming Elmo gif*](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/0c/64/9a/0c649a17ec1e5f5ca340248b4ef4e4be.gif)

Paul rounded the corner into the alleyway, too distracted by his phone call to notice he’d definitely made a wrong turn. You looked up from the garbage you were rummaging through to find something for dinner — these fancy restaurants always threw away perfectly good food — and hissed at the predator that stood 10 feet away.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” he mumbled into the phone as he pulled it from his face to shove into the pocket of his slacks.

He stood there, this redwood of a man, just staring at you. You hissed again, longer, your tail twitching erratically as you prepared to attack or flee. But the man stayed there silently, slowly raising his hands as if to say “I mean you no harm.”

Long moments passed, and you got bored of waiting, returning to your search for food. The second you looked down, he took a cautious step toward you. You prickled at his movement, but he stayed there, watching you, his hands never straying from sight.

More tense breaths and he was taking one more careful step in your direction. And so it continued — a step, a tense wait, maintaining eye contact as this giant approached you — until he was standing right before your crouched form.

Up close he was even bigger than you’d realized. You took in how broad his shoulders were in his blazer, how the buttons on his shirt seemed to be straining against his chest. And those hands, the ones he’d held up to show he wasn’t a threat, were massive. He’d been showing you his weapons all along, and you’d thought them a show of peaceful intent.

You abruptly stood up, trying to make yourself appear that much larger to your predator, but you already knew you were outmatched. If he wanted you he could take you. Why’d he have to be so _big_?

He looked you up and down slowly, scrutinizing your whole body now that he could see it. Your mussed hair and threadbare tee. Your ratty oversized sweatpants. His eyes lingered on your furry ears and tail peeking out.

“Um, hi?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.

“Hi!” he responded a bit too loudly, immediately cringing as you shrunk back.

The two of you stared at each other in silence again. _Surely if he was going to hurt me he’d have done it by now._ He cleared his throat, and you felt yourself flinch again.

“Sorry, I just—” he blinked, collecting his thoughts before continuing, “I’ve never seen anything like you. I mean, prehensile tails aren’t unheard of, of course, but that’s not prehensile. And your ears!”

You could feel yourself flushing at his words. You’d spent your whole life avoiding people, knowing instinctively they’d want to capture you, study you, hurt you. But this man didn’t seem like that. He seemed fascinated, sure, but his eyes were kind. Perhaps you’d misjudged.

“Oh! I’m sorry I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable! But you’re…” he trailed off, searching for the words.

“A freak,” you finished for him, sighing.

“Unique,” he corrected.

You hadn’t noticed how much your muscles had relaxed as you two spoke until your stomach grumbled and you tensed at the sound.

“Are you hungry? I was just on my way to grab some food. Can I buy you dinner?”

You stared at him like he was crazy. You couldn‘t go into a restaurant! You told him as much.

“We could get takeout? Eat at my place?”

You bristled further. You may be part feline, but you had no interest in being a housecat.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’d love to study you — with your permission, of course — but right now I’d just like to help you. If you’ll let me.”

As you weighed your options, your stomach took the opportunity to growl again even louder, making your mind up for you.

“Ok. You can help me.”

* * *

“Kitten! I’m home!” Paul called from the entryway.

You bounded on all fours to greet him. He’d encouraged you to act on your instincts, to be comfortable and feel at home. You found when emotions were high — excitement, anger, _arousal_ — that you often had more animalistic urges, and he loved when you’d act on them.

You rubbed your face against his chest in greeting, not hugging him, just loving how soft the fabric of his button-up felt. “Hello,” you purred against him as he petted your hair.

“Did you have an ok day, kitty? If you’re not too tired I’d love to get some testing done.”

You yawned before recounting your day. “I read a little, took a bath, watched some TV. It was fine, I guess.”

“Nothing strenuous. That’s good,” he replied.

You pulled back to look up at him questioningly, immediately missing the feeling of his soothing pets.

“I have plans for tonight’s tests to be… different,” he explained, bringing your face back to his chest to scratch behind your ears, making you purr loudly against him.

“So you’re finally done measuring exactly how many hairs per square millimeter I have on my ears, then?” You’d grown comfortable teasing him, and it made him smile.

“I believe I’ve studied your ears enough for now,” he chuckled as he grabbed your hand. “I think it’s time for your tail.”

And with that, Paul pulled you to the basement.

The lab he’d cobbled together there could easily have ended up looking terrifying or creepy. Instead, he’d made sure to use warm lighting and add some cozy touches to put you at ease. There was of course the exam table; you can’t really make those less clinical. But the fake plants, the pretty wall art, and the plush purple blanket he kept on an overstuffed wingback chair in the corner helped.

When you’d arrived in the lab he asked you to remove any clothing that might hinder access to your tail, blushing as he spoke, before leaving the room. You’d been wearing a dress since your bath, so it appeared you’d be removing your whole outfit to grant the requested access. You slipped it over your head, removing your thong as well, and set them on the wingback. Shivering in the cool air wearing only a soft cotton lounge bralette, you grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around your body before sitting on the table.

Paul’s footsteps preceded him by a few seconds, and when he arrived he was carrying a black duffel bag. Your ears perked up, but he just shook his head at your questioning face, placing the duffel on a side table a few feet from where you sat. 

“If I show you the implements it could skew my findings,” he lectured, hands on his hips. You took in, not for the first time, how good he looked in his black slacks and light grey shirt.

“You always say that, Paul.”

“Because it’s always true, Kitten.” He shook his head, smirking, before leveling you with a scolding scowl. “Now, we’re in the lab. What do you call me in the lab?”

“Doctor,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. You were loathe to admit that calling him such a formal title had a certain effect. His policy was meant to separate his research from your personal lives where you’d been becoming… acquaintances? Friends? You’d been staying with him for a few weeks now, ever since that day in the alley, the two of you having settled into an amicable cohabitation that never got too personal. He’d scratch your ears and pet you, sure, but that’s what people did with cats.

“Good kitty,” he smiled at you as your face reddened. “Alright, to study your tail I think I’ll need you to lie on your front. You can keep the blanket, but it can’t get in my way or I’ll have to take it.” As he spoke his hands busied themselves rolling the sleeves of his shirt up over his forearms.

Adjusting yourself on the exam table, you flipped to rest with your backside up. You scrunched up the blanket to just at your hips which had the effect of pushing your ass up, fully revealing your tail and everything below along with it. You rested your flaming face on crossed arms in front of you as you tried to ignore how exposed you were.

“Thank you, Kitten, that’ll do nicely. I’m going to start recording now,” he warned as he pressed the red button on the camera. “We can, as always, take a break at any time. Just say ‘red’ and everything stops. Do I have your consent to begin my examination?”

“Yes, Doctor.” This part was routine at least. He always started by turning on the camera, letting you know you could stop if you wanted, and asking for your consent. Because you’re a test subject in this room. Nothing more. That thought shouldn’t be so arousing.

He finally approached you, giving you a slow soothing pet on your hair before tentatively touching the tip of your tail. Your body jerked at the contact in an as-of-yet unexplored place. He stroked your hair some more.

“It’s ok, kitty. Just breathe.”

You took slow, measured breaths as his hands further explored your tail, becoming more sure of themselves. He stroked the length of it, feeling how soft the hair was, moving it this way and that. You willed your muscles to relax themselves as he handled your appendage.

“Subject’s tail appears to be remarkably sensitive. Hair texture and color are similar to that of the ears. Range of motion seems on par with what would be expected of a feline,” Paul noted for the recording.

The verbal notes always made you feel odd. It was so clinical, so detached. You were the subject . Something to investigate. A half naked something to investigate. It made you squirm.

“Are you uncomfortable, Kitten?” he asked, returning his hands to petting your hair in soothing motions, making you purr. His voice took on a level of warmth you noticed it lacked when he was in full scientist mode.

“N-no Doctor.”

“Then please stop moving.” That edge of coldness to his voice was back, and it made your thighs clench more. His hands abruptly left your head, resting at his sides. “If you’re having trouble staying still I can restrain you,” he offered. The way one would ask if you wanted a cup of water, like it was a routine pleasantry.

“I’m ok, thanks,” you rasped as you tried to stop your body from wriggling at his tone. 

“Clearly not,” he countered as he pulled open several compartments around the exam table, dragging leather straps from their confines. He began securing the straps along your body — one across your shoulder blades, one in the dip of your back, one at the top of your thighs, and one just above your knees. “Let me know if this becomes uncomfortable.”

“It’s, um, it’s fine,” you gulped, turning your face away from him to hide your expression. Your body tried to shift, hips rocking into unyielding pressure below you, forcing you to remain still.

Paul smirked. “Perfect. I’ve restrained the subject so as to prevent unnecessary movement from skewing the information collected.”

He brought his hands back to the end of your tail, brushing the hair backward to inspect the roots and skin underneath. Your tail flicked out of his hands, a small hiss bursting from you on instinct.

“Sorry. It's uncomfortable when you brush the wrong way,” you explained, turning your head back to look him in the eye.

He nodded at you, “Noted. Subject claims stimulation against the grain of hair growth is unpleasant,” he repeated in his cold, clinical voice for the recording.

He was grasping your tail again, this time at the base, and you could feel his warmth radiating into your ass. Your thighs tensed in their confines, your fists balling under your head, trying to keep your cool. But how were you supposed to stay still and act like everything is normal when Paul Sevier, the hot — _god he’s so hot_ — scientist who literally took you in off the street, had his hands mere inches away from your naked ass? He dragged his short clipped nails down your tail from base to tip, and you let out a strangled moan.

“Kitten?”

“I’m fine.” Your breathing was labored, and you realized with dawning horror that you could smell yourself in the air.

Paul must have noticed something too. “Do you smell…” he trailed off for a moment, taking a deep, almost taunting breath through his nose before letting it out and repeating the action. “Ah. Subject appears to be getting aroused from examination. I will continue to investigate this connection.”

He repeated his earlier action, scraping his nails down your tail a few times as you panted into your arms. A sudden tug had a yelp escaping your lips before he returned to scratching. Your heart was fluttering in your chest, your body aching for touch in other places as he continued to manipulate the one part that most interested him. He pulled your tail again before gripping the base to hold it out of the way as his fingers delved between your thighs.

“God, Kitten, you’re soaked,” he groaned softly to you before switching to his louder, more clinical tone. “Subject has produced an excess of vaginal lubrication. I posit that the tail could be an erogenous zone for human/feline hybrids.”

Your face flushed in shame as you mewled, trying your best to grind back into his fingers that remained just between your outer lips, teasing at you. That final barrier, that facade where you could pretend you weren’t incredibly, horribly turned on by all of this, had crumbled. And then he was tugging on your tail again. Sharp swift snaps, slow long pulls, your brain couldn’t help but think of how the same rhythms would feel with different appendages, and your resolve to not make a fool of yourself broke.

“Please, Doctor,” you whined.

“What do you need, Kitten?” His tone was mocking. You didn’t care.

“Touch me.”

“I am touching you, sweetie.”

“Paul, please .”

“Bad kitty,” he admonished with a swift spank to your ass with the hand not still wriggling in your slick. “What’s my name in this lab? What do you call me when I’m studying your little body?” He plunged two fingers inside you, stretching you out as you knew those hands of his would.

“Doctor,” you moaned.

“That’s right, Kitten. I’m a scientist while we’re in this room. And here you are getting all turned on by my investigations,” he punctuated his words with thrusts of his wide fingers as he tugged your tail again, spurring your cunt to clench around him with every tug. “Subject’s pussy clenches when tension is applied to the tail.”

_That’s not a very clinical word,_ was your last coherent thought as he timed the movement of his fingers with the pulling of your tail. You were close, but you needed more. You unfolded your arms, craning your body to try to reach a hand down to give yourself some relief.

He removed both hands before bringing them each down on an asscheek harshly, leaving a trail of your slick on the one. Your head was abruptly wrenched back by the hair as he spanked you, punctuating each word with a smack, “I. Told. You. To. Stay. Still.”

And then your hair was released as he stalked over to his duffel. He rummaged in it a moment before returning with a set of leather cuffs and a blindfold in his hands, moving to the head of the exam table and fiddling with it out of your sight. Your hands were somehow in a set of soft supple cuffs above you before you realized, and when you tugged there was little give. He secured the blindfold over your eyes, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Pretty kitty, I’ve got so much I want to do to you.”


	2. His Hands, His Weapons

With your sight taken away, your ears perked up more. You heard Paul walk back to the duffel and meticulously remove item after item from it and place them on the rolling instrument tray, the metal softly clanging with each piece he laid out. 

“Subject’s arousal increases animalistic tendencies and decreases impulse control. I’ve removed the subject’s sense of sight to minimize external variables so that I can properly assess individual stimuli,” he told the recording as you heard the sounds of footsteps and wheels approaching you, the words  _ individual stimuli  _ ringing in your head. It sounded like you were in for a long night.

He ran a hand softly from your head all the way over the blanket on your back and down the stretch of your tail, making you shudder. He repeated the action, touch growing increasingly firm with each pass. When his nails joined in, scratching down the length of your body, you mewled.

“Everything ok, Kitten?”

“Feels good,” you purred.

“Can you expand on that?”

“No.”

He tugged your tail sharply, making you growl. “What kind of good, Kitten? Exciting? Comforting?  _ Arousing?  _ ”

“Comforting and arousing,” you mumbled.

He called you a good kitty, thanked you, and noted your response for the recording before grabbing something off the instrument tray. “I’m going to need to shave some areas of your tail. Is that ok?”

You paused, taking a moment to think. You’d probably look a bit mangy with patches missing, but you supposed it wouldn’t kill you. “Yes, Doctor.”

You heard Paul moving about the lab, presumably grabbing the tools necessary for shaving you. Funny, he’d spent so long studying the hair on your ears, and now he wanted to shave your tail.

The sound of his footsteps returning preceded a warm hand on your lower back as he warned that he was going to wet your fur and apply some shaving cream. And then slowly, deliberately, he shaved all around the base of your tail and in a few places along the length. His sure strokes felt so nice that you almost regretted it being done when he was wiping away the mess.

Clangs and shuffling came from the tray, and then you felt him sticking something to the now bare patches on your tail.

“What the fuck!” you shrieked. Something  _ tingled. _

“Electrical nerve stimulation. You’re fine, sweetie. Please relax.”

You breathed deeply, settling your nerves. It was a weird sensation, but it wasn’t actually unpleasant. Really, it was sort of nice. Your breathing evened out, and he began to increase the current.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he requested.

As the amount of stim increased, you felt the muscles in your tail and even your ass spasming, and it was having an effect on your still soaked center. Heat quickly pooled in your belly.

Your breathing must have changed, because he was soon admonishing you, “I said to tell me when it hurts, not tough it out!”

Your face flushed as you whispered, “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Ah. Subject appears to find stimulation with a TENS unit applied to the tail arousing,” he remarked in that frosty observational tone.

Your whole world felt narrowed to the feeling of your muscles forced to tense, making your hips try to wriggle against the straps. He probed at your core, plunging two fingers into you and holding them still, feeling your muscles clench and flutter around him.

“Subject’s vaginal walls contract in time with electro stim from the TENS unit. I believe the strength may be proportional to the intensity of the stimulation,” he mused.

The current increased further, an intense buzzing running through your tail as your muscles twitched and danced. You felt yourself clamping harder on his fingers.  _ Who knew e.stim would have you this worked up? _

“Subject’s contraction strength is indeed proportional to intensity of stimulation,” he chuckled.

The way he spoke about you combined with the intense way your muscles danced to leave you on edge. You tried tugging your hands down to relieve the pressure, and the feeling of the cuffs only brought you higher.

“Do you need something?” he teased.

“Please, Doctor. I’m so close.”

“I want to test a theory, sweetie. Can you hold on please?” The way he asked was warm. That was an upstair-Paul voice, not lab-Paul.

“I think so,” you panted out.

The stim turned higher still, and you felt your tail and ass twitching, your cunt grasping at the fingers he held still inside you. You were  _ right there,  _ and he wasn’t even moving? You screamed your frustration, muscles fighting the bonds as you ached for a release that was just barely out of reach.

It went on like this for what felt like days. He toyed with the TENS settings, occasionally giving his fingers a pump or two, as you dripped and clenched around him. Your mouth babbled incoherent promises — if only he’d touch your clit, let you shatter. This was torture, being held on the precipice like this.

He’d shown you his hands, his weapons, that first day. You should have known they’d break you.

“Subject does not appear to be able to reach orgasm with electrical nerve stimulation of the tail alone,” he finally told the recording, but it wasn’t his cold clinical voice anymore. He sounded wrung out, like he was grasping to stay in control.

“Please, Doctor,” you sobbed as he turned off the unit and pulled his fingers from you. He moved them in front of your face, making you smell yourself on him as he removed your blindfold. You blinked your eyes, focusing on the pruney fingers before you.

“Look at how wet you are,” he demanded before shoving his fingers into your mouth. “Now clean them.”

You sucked his fingers clean, hoping if you did a good job he’d finally let you finish. He pulled his hand back and wiped the spit on your cheek before moving to rip the TENS pads off your skin and release the leather straps holding your back to the table. With your torso free, he ripped the blanket away from you, wrapping it around the TENS unit and tossing it at the wingback. You watched him grab a set of safety scissors from the instrument tray and stiffened, eyeing him warily. He used them to cut away your bralette.

“Hey! I liked that!”

In response, he simply ran a finger lightly down your seam, making you gasp before he grabbed two more sets of leather cuffs from the tray. Each ankle got one half of a set, a loose cuff dangling on each side, and then he was releasing the strap above the backs of your knees. He quickly attached the nearer ankle’s free cuff to something on the side of the table, opening you up. You moved the other ankle into the same position on its side in preparation.

“Eager for more tests, kitty?” he teased, earning him a huff as he secured your second ankle.

Paul released the final strap, the one just at the top of your thighs, and massaged both legs, rubbing the marks left behind. And then he was fiddling with the table again, and you felt the part under your thighs drop away leaving you bent over half a table, arms stretched in front of you, legs tied open with your tail, ass, and cunt very open and  _ very _ on display.

“Mmmm perfect,” he hummed to himself.

You watched as he moved between you and the tray. You busied yourself staring at the pronounced bulge in his slack, your mouth watering at the sight.

Abruptly, he was right behind you, setting something on your back. He must’ve grabbed his next  _ implement  _ while you were distracted by the outline of his cock. You closed your eyes, picturing what it must look like uncovered. 

He grabbed your tail in one hand and you felt a soft vibration on the tip. You tried to flick it away, but he held it firmly in his grasp.

“That tickles!” You shrieked.

The sensation slowly moved down toward your body, and about halfway it started to feel… well it certainly didn’t tickle. Paul noticed the change in your body language and asked you what you were feeling.

“Aroused,” you spat at him. He obviously knew already.

“Sensitive little thing,” he murmured to himself before recounting what he was doing to  _ the subject  _ and the response. That tone was back, that frayed-at-the-edges attempt to remain clinical.

By the time the vibrations reached the base of your tail you were panting again, mewling and dripping. Paul gave an experimental tug while holding the vibrator to the base of your tail, and you moaned. Oh how you moaned. And then you felt hot breath on the backs of your thighs. Your eyes sprung open.

“Vaginal fluids have begun dripping down onto the subject’s thighs.”

You felt something wet cleaning the slick from your left thigh, and it took a moment through the haze of arousal for you to realize it was Paul’s  _ tongue. _ You moaned as he did the same on the right.

“Subject’s fluids taste relatively the same as a human’s, though perhaps a bit sweeter. The difference can likely be attributed to standard variation.” Hearing him call your slick  _ sweet  _ while referring to you as  _ the subject  _ should be illegal.

He licked a single hot stripe up your center before wriggling his tongue into your hole, gathering more wetness as your pussy fluttered, the vibrations on your tail making you whimper. You clawed at the table, all of this too much.

“Doctor, please. What do you want from me?”

“I’m just conducting tests, Kitten. I think your tail is linked to your arousal, and I want to see if all forms of stimuli have a positive effect. I think you may be able to cum from tail stimulation alone.”

A shiver went through you at the thought. You’d never cum from playing with your tail. Before today you hadn’t even known how good it could feel to touch. “Maybe if you just put something in me. Maybe I can cum that way.”

“Greedy thing,” he mused, “though I suppose it could help. If it’s just  _ in  _ you and not moving, it shouldn’t ruin the results.”

You heard a rustling behind you and then scorching heat against your ass and thighs. You tried to grind back into him, but he pushed your chest into the table.

“I’m giving you something you asked for, and you respond by immediately misbehaving? That’s not very nice, dear.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I’ll stay still. Please. I’m so empty,” you sobbed into your arms, begging. He gave your tail one swift tug making you whimper mid-sob before lining his cock up with your dripping heat.

You both let out animalistic groans as he plunged home. His cock filled you,  _ really  _ filled you. You felt yourself stretching to accommodate his size. And then he stood there, buried in you to the hilt as your walls rippled. He stood there.  _ How could he just stand there? _

“Subject’s vaginal walls contract at regular intervals when vibration is applied to the tail,” he gritted, no longer able to even  _ try  _ to sound clinical in tone, even if the words were still professional.

The vibration increased, an intense buzzing running through your tail, and your legs trembled. Oh, this was  _ much _ better with something to clench on. You heard Paul’s breath hitch.

“Subject’s contraction strength and intervals are proportional to intensity of vibration,” he choked out.

The throbbing cock just sitting in you, filling the emptiness while you were forced to clench around it, was breathtaking. You could feel the vibrations radiating into your ass, ghosting across your skin, and you didn’t know that you could handle so much pleasure all at once. Your hips rocked infinitesimally between the table and the impressive specimen behind you. He didn’t like that.

“No. Moving.” He scolded again while the hand that wasn’t maneuvering the toy gripped your hip, holding you tight to him, keeping you stuffed full but not allowing any friction. You intentionally clamped down on him as hard as you could, and he spanked you once, telling you to behave.

As he toyed with the pattern and intensity of the vibrations, you continued to remain on the knife’s edge of coming undone. Long minutes passed, inner muscles gripping his throbbing cock, milking him. The man had impressive self control, you’d give him that. You begged him to move. You plead for mercy, for a single swipe on your clit. Your tail could get you high, but it wouldn’t let you walk over the edge and drop.

You sobbed. You openly cried. Your body wasn’t meant to sustain this amount of pleasure for this long. And he soothed you through your tears, running his nails softly down your back. As he reached to scratch behind your ear it changed the angle and your breath hitched.

It seemed that was all it took to break his resolve. One little shift in angle.

Suddenly his hand was back on your hip, gripping it so hard you were sure you’d bruise. And he wasn’t holding you still anymore. No, he was pounding into you.

After what felt like hours of being toyed with, kept on edge, brought higher and higher with no ability to fall, no reprieve, he was finally, blessedly,  _ moving. _ His cock pistoned in and out of you, hips slamming into yours as he truly fucked you.

He ran the vibe up and down your tail as he rocked. You’d thought the vibrator alone felt incredible, but you’d had no idea what a vibrator and a cock in tandem could do. If you hadn’t been drowning them out with loud purrs and mewls and whines, you’d have blushed at the squelching sounds of his thick cock driving into you. You tried tugging your hands down to relieve the pressure, and the feeling of the cuffs only made the need more urgent.

The man clearly knew what he was doing with his hands — those large hands, his weapons — as he brought the one on your hip down to brush at your clit. And that was it. One graze on your clit, and you felt yourself shatter, pieces of yourself fragmenting off of you as your world was reduced to the feeling of coming undone on Paul’s cock while he held a vibrator to your tail.

You heard screaming echoing in the room, belatedly realizing it was you when Paul gave your tail a sharp snap, bringing you back to your body abruptly. He pulled out of you then, and you cried out at the loss as he moved beside you to release your ankle. He was quick to do the same on the other side before moving above your head to release your wrists.

With your body finally free of confines he gathered you up, flipping you to face him as he placed your ass back on the exam table. You stared into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily, until you could take no more. You’d waited hours — hell you’d waited weeks — for this. You wanted him.

Your lips crashed together as you leaned into him. He immediately opened his mouth, licking at the seam of yours, requesting entry. Your tongues tangled together as he swallowed your moans. His hands ran up and down your sides possessively as you clung to his arms. When he pulled back for air, you moved to his jaw, peppering kisses along his skin.

“Need you  _ now,” _ he growled, grabbing the back of your neck and bringing his mouth back to yours. You nipped at each other’s lips, your mouths waging a war your bodies would be fighting. His hands on your breasts, kneading the supple flesh, you whimpered into his mouth as your fingers wove their way into his soft hair. You gave a tug, and he was the one gasping.

Paul’s hands dropped to your hips, bringing you to the edge of the table and lining himself back up with your still dripping pussy.

“Please, Paul,” you whined at him.

“What’s my name, Kitten?” He smirked at you, teasing his cock at your slit, bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Please, Doctor. Please fuck me. You can study as much as you want, just please  _ please  _ fuck me.”

“Good kitty,” he groaned as you plunged into you.

This angle felt different. For one, you could look into his beautiful face, take in his perfect nose and plush lips, his eyes that were dark and hot with arousal, could count the moles peppering his fair skin. At this angle, you could rake your claws down his back, no doubt leaving scratches. The possessive part of you preened at the thought. Mostly you liked this angle because his pelvis ground your clit with each stroke. Paul’s gaze was on your tits, watching them bounce as he fucked himself into your tight heat.

“Pretty kitty. Should’ve done this ages ago. So responsive,” he gave a particularly powerful thrust, ripping a scream from your throat as if to prove his point. “Pretty tits. Pretty cunt. My pretty kitty.” He babbled as he drove you both on. You ground down into him, gripping his shoulders.

“Look at me, pretty kitty,” he demanded. Your gaze met his as his hand slipped between you to toy at your clit. “Want you to cum for me. Can you cum for me, Kitten? Cum on my big cock before I fill you up.”

His filthy words, his cock rocking into you, his fingers circling your clit. You didn’t have a chance. You came undone again, your head thrown back, your mouth open on a silent scream. Claws dug into his shoulders in an attempt to hang on, to keep tethered to reality. Nothing should ever feel this good.

He rutted into you a few more times before his hips stuttered and he came in you with a growl.  _ And I thought I was the animal.  _ And then his arms were around you, his nails running up and down your back just how you liked.

You stayed like that for minutes that felt like hours that felt like seconds. His cock softened and slipped out of you, and he grumbled about what a waste it was as his cum dribbled from your hole.

He moved to the sink, grabbing a towel and wetting it before bringing it back and cleaning you off. “Are you ok, Kitten?”

“Yes, just a bit cold.”

He rushed to the corner chair, grabbing the blanket and removing the TENS unit, which he placed on the instrument tray, before wrapping you in its fluffy warmth. He held you against his chest, and you began to purr.

After a moment you asked, “Can I have some water please, Doctor?”

He cringed, “Please sweetie. Paul. And of course you can.” He reached to the instrument table and came back with a bottle.

“I thought you preferred to be called Doctor for the recording?”

His face blanched. “Right. The recording. The recording of me defiling my test subject and taking advantage of someone who’s staying with me.” He strode over to the camera to press the stop button.

“Hey now, I was a very active participant in said defiling. You did  _ not  _ take advantage of me. I like you, Paul. You’re the kind of person who finds a skittish cat in an alley and gives it a home.”

He was back in front of you, his hands cupping your face. “I like you too, pretty kitty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy this was a doozy. I actually cannot believe this filth came from my brain and is now in the world. I’m gonna go hide on a remote mountain now. Thanks for reading another TrashPile Production.
> 
> If you’re interested in seeing what other filth (and regular stuff too!) I fling into the void you can catch me on Twitter @trashpile11


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